


zero volume, infinite surface area

by unhappyrefrain



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Hot Chocolate, Implied Autistic Character, Light Bondage, M/M, N likes menger sponges a lot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, touya gets wrecked: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unhappyrefrain/pseuds/unhappyrefrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Remember that one time you kinda..."<br/>"Touya, I was about to--"<br/>"...went rougher than usual on me? Can you do that again--"<br/>"Yes," N breathes. And then, as if the first time isn't enough: "Yes."</p>
<p>(In which N tops the fuck out of Touya, hot cocoa is made and enjoyed by all, and absurd mathematical concepts cause Touya to fall asleep.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	zero volume, infinite surface area

**Author's Note:**

> where my isshushippers at

N doesn't sleep the same as Touya does.

He keeps himself up, usually; sometimes he'll do complicated formulas in a worn notebook to keep his eyes open, blinking sleepily in the glare of the desk light. Or he'll concern himself with the workings of his void cube keychain. He'll think for hours about different iterations of the Menger sponge, picturing the little yellow puzzle dividing itself continuously, cubes upon cubes upon even smaller cubes. On other nights he will run his hands up and down his hair, working out every tangle, letting the pain keep him awake. Anything to keep him out of the darker parts of his head. And he always, _always_ falls asleep with his clothes on.

Sometimes Touya wakes up to find the bed strewn with long green hairs. He doesn't say much, just picks them off the sheets and brushes them into the trash can.

Touya will sleep, though. Since N came back, he's had a harder time of it, but he doesn't really mind. N keeps the lights on, but Touya can just as easily snuggle his face into a pillow, or sleep in the dip of N's shoulder. He knows that N is afraid of the night. It's something he's willing to deal with; he's had his share of nightmares, after all.

Sometimes, N will wake up shaking, pull at Touya's shirt, fear in his stammered breathing, and Touya will understand. He'll sit up, wrap his arms around N's shoulders and lean into his lap, kissing the side of his neck reassuringly. They'll fall into a slow, tidelike sort of reverie, Touya's hands bracing on N's chest as he sinks down onto him, N sobbing into Touya's neckline, moving slowly, quietly, as if in prayer.

When N exhales a refrain in his sleep, strained with a scream that won't quite make it out, and then jolts awake, hands curling into Touya's shirt, Touya expects it to be one of those nights. What he doesn't expect, however, is the way N tenses when Touya drapes his arm over him.

"N? Are you okay?"

N pushes himself to the headboard, sitting up weakly. "Um," he says astutely.

Touya doesn't push.

"I had a... dream," N says. Touya notices he didn't say nightmare. "We... I... It was like this," he continues, making incoherent gestures with his hands.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Can you... can you let me touch you?"

Touya cocks his head. N isn't usually this... _awkward_ , he thinks, biting his lip. Or rather, Touya's used to the nonverbal communication, the way N urges him on in whispers and motions. _There must be something he's leaving out._

A picture floats into his mind-- N holding him down hard, biting possessively at his ear as Touya gasps, doubled over the bed, feeling churned and alight and so, so perfectly used. "Wait, I also wanted to ask you something," Touya remembers, nearly snapping his fingers when it comes to him. "Remember that one time you kinda..."

"Touya, I was about to--"

"...went rougher than usual on me? Can you do that again--"

"Yes," N breathes. And then, as if the first time isn't enough: " _Yes._ "

 

* * *

 

And then Touya's on his back, abrupt as the ending to a dream, and N's hands are all over him. N's _hands_ \-- he's almost forgotten how large, how thin they are, strong and warm upon his face. And they're forceful, now, in direct contrast to the careful way N usually handles him, like Touya could break if he pushes too hard. Something in N has finally snapped, but it's not _bad_ , Touya decides, and he's taken aback when N, in the process of removing his belt, grips Touya's wrists and winds it around them, down to the middle of his forearms. He hesitates, looking at Touya, hands hovering above the buckle.

"Is it okay if I...?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

N's grip tightens slightly. He buckles the makeshift restraints together, and Touya tries to pull his hands apart, testing it and deciding quickly that it works.

"Good," Touya says, nodding hastily. N pushes his bound arms back, so that they're suspended over his head, and one hand slides up the front of Touya's shirt, the pressure from N's fingertips more insistent, more needy, than before. He takes Touya's lips effortlessly, kisses him hard and deep, even as his thumb runs over a nipple and Touya gasps into his mouth.

"You're so lovely like this," N says, low and sonorous in his throat, and Touya whimpers. N's lips touch on the jump of his pulse, and his teeth scrape over the thin layer of skin there, between air and blood. Touya thinks about the fact that if N were to bite down, he would bleed out in his arms, and an exquisite ache winds itself behind Touya's navel, knowing that N could very well kill him here, but instead, he chooses to kiss.

It's raw, it's almost animalistic, and it's exciting. Touya whines, bucking his hips into N's leg, and N responds with a growl and a long drag of his fingernails over Touya's bare chest.

"Fff _ffuck_ ," Touya hisses, the stinging pain making him weak. He can't pull his shirt down, and he feels vulnerable, open for the taking. Dimly, he decides he wouldn't mind being torn apart like this, and, as if reading his mind, N presses his nails hard into  the bone of Touya's hips. One of N's thumbs is still tweaking at his chest, and he pants, open-mouthed, twisting up into N's touch like the burl of a tree.

His body feels like it's been cut open, like N's fingernails have drawn a dotted line down the center of his chest, and N undoes the button of Touya's pajamas, leaving him barely half-dressed now and craving.

"Don't... don't you hold back on me now, N," Touya gasps out, writhing as N shucks his boxers off without warning and a hand wraps around him. He shudders at the friction, at how cold N's hands seem compared to the heat pooling there, but N doesn't give him time to adjust.

"Ah," Touya whines when N's thumb brushes over the head, and grinds up into his hand, half-expecting him to continue, half-wanting him to quit stalling and start prepping him already. N doesn't disappoint; seconds later, his voice falls somewhere between a whimper and a shriek when N's fingers, slick with lotion, press into him without warning.

Touya moans, almost shamelessly, then takes in a harsh breath as N's fingers curl and he feels a surge of hot, dizzying pleasure down his spine. N is possessive, harsh with his motions, unrelentingly hitting that spot over and over again, and Touya's knees begin to shake, pain-pleasure building hot within him.

One hand, long and thin, comes up to brush his brown hair from his eyes. It's tender, in sheer contrast to N's prior roughness. Touya squeezes his eyes shut.

"You're doing it again," he reminds N, his voice still weak.

"You looked like you were in pain, Touya." N's face is a bit pale.

Touya realizes now that N has only known pain to be bad. He doesn't understand yet that there are kinds of pain that aren't like that. The sweet, exciting ache of having a crush that won't be requited; the stomach-flipping pain of telling the truth for the first time; the pleasurable pain of consensual, perfect roughness, of a body being pushed to its limits-- N knows none of this.

"No-- I mean, yes, well," Touya says, between irregular breaths, trying to place his words right. "It's good pain. There's such a thing. Don't... don't stop."

N quirks an eyebrow, but says nothing in particular. Seconds later, his weight disappears from on top of Touya, and he hears N's pants hit the floor with a soft thump.

Then N is hot and thick inside him, pulling Touya's bound wrists backward to gain more leverage as his hips slam forward.

Touya _screams_.

"That's such a good sound," N says, voice twisted with breath and need. Touya feels tears at the corners of his eyes. "So perfect," N goes on, drawing his hips back and then thrusting forward, harder this time, and Touya's body feels like it might break. He can't form words; a long moan is all that comes out, his mouth slack, eyes fluttering and squeezing shut in turn.

N presses back inside him, one hand gripping the bindings to pull Touya backwards, get himself deeper. The other is steady on the small of Touya's back, keeping him grounded. The relative lowness of the bed and N's tall stature line up perfectly, so that with the way Touya is bent over himself, N doesn't have to adjust.

Touya feels like he might be dying. N's pace quickens, and his angle is hitting something tender inside him, so rapidly and consistently that his whimpers blur together into a long, unbroken moan. Most of the initial pain is gone now; Touya's muscles are strained back, his body curved as if it could snap, and the deep ache within him twisting into hard, heavy knots. This is _exactly_ what he wants.

N's fingers dig into the skin of his hip so hard that it takes a while for blood to fill in the little white spots he leaves behind. Again, like pressing on a bruise. N's rhythm is ruthless, feral; the pattern of it is uneven, and Touya can hear N's ragged breaths behind him.

He's never felt anything like this; it's like being split open, being ruined so thoroughly that he can't quite tell where he ends and N begins. He can't tell his thoughts from his words anymore-- he's not even sure if what's running through his head is actually spilling from his lips. N has him spread open, has Touya completely at his mercy, and the terrifying realization that he no longer has control of his own body finds Touya choking on his own breaths.

"Touya, Touya, _Touya_ ," N is chanting, in the same staccato rhythm that his hips are moving. His voice is deep, hoarse, filled with desire. Dimly, Touya realizes the sheets below his bent hips are slick.

The heat, the friction, the _sensation_ is consuming everything. Touya is _melting_. N doesn't let up, bends him further, pushes him to the limits of his sanity. Light is bursting behind his eyes-- he is bruised, shattered, open, and he's never been so pleased with it. He comes with a ragged shriek, his body arching back, trembling like a broken tree. N's breath hitches, staggers, and his knees threaten to give out over Touya's body as he follows, hips jerking rapidly through his climax.

When he is just as spent, his body hits the bed, and Touya flops his still-bound arms, making a point of it.

"Okay, all right," N says, and fumbles with the buckle, hands still trembling. When he manages to get it undone, Touya rolls onto his side, flings one arm over to the far end of the bed, and revels in his newfound freedom.

"I can move my _hands_ ," Touya grins up at him. N just shakes his head.

 

* * *

  
  
When they've both recuperated enough to take a few steps out of bed, N decides that he's going to make hot cocoa. Touya is snuggled against him, hands curled into thick green hair, and won't quite let N get up to accomplish what he wants to accomplish.

"Touya, I need to get up."

"Nooo," Touya whines. "You need to _staaaay_."

"I am going to make you hot cocoa and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Muh," Touya grumbles, and reluctantly lets go of N's hair. "You better come back quick though. Also bring more ice. You left a big thingy on my hip."

"A thingy?"

N finds it quite amusing that Touya is too sleepy to remember the word for bruise.

"A... whatever. Okay. Make me hot cocoa," Touya mumbles, and rolls back over. N pushes his bangs out of his eyes and kisses his forehead. The ice pack he pressed to the small of Touya's back is probably soaking water into the sheets, but they're already ruined enough anyway, so N puts it out of his mind and goes to make hot cocoa.

 

 

* * *

  
  
He comes back with two steaming mugs, sets one on Touya's bedside table and the other on the bedpost on his side. It's a bit precarious up there, but it's better than the floor.

"Yessss," Touya cheers, and struggles up to a sitting position. "We need to switch the ice packs."

"I'll do it." N gets up, pulls the freezer open and stuffs multiple ice cubes into another empty Ziploc gallon bag. He drops it off from the side of the bed on his way back, and it lands on Touya's stomach, earning a little "oof" and a quiet laugh.

N slips back into bed, sips from his mug of hot cocoa. Touya nuzzles up against him. N kisses the part of his hair.

"Tell me about your cubey thingy."

"It's not a _cubey thingy_ , it's a level 1 Menger sponge," N corrects, "but alright. First, you start with a cube..."

 

 


End file.
